Feel the Heat Around the Corner
by WaddleBuff
Summary: On the run from the law, Malcolm goes undercover as a lifeguard, only to find the law waiting for him in a skimpy bikini. [Smut]


It was the perfect cover, one in broad daylight.

He knew the heat was scouring every dive bar, marked warehouse, and underground market for him, for what he knew. He had just narrowly-escaped a few weeks ago, framed once again by that bastard Fate.

So of course, what better place to hide than in the upper echelons of Piltover itself, working under a fake name as a lifeguard of a posh hotel's pool and lounge.

It was perfect.

Due to the time of year, it was peak vacation season, and most of the city's elite were skipping town anyway, off to some exotic Ionian beach resort or another. That meant barely any patrons. Less eyes.

Some days, Malcolm would have the whole pool to himself. And on most days, due to the lack of patronage, the bartender would leave the poolside bar for Malcolm to keep an eye on, which meant anything and everything was on the house.

The whole experience was a tonic for the soul, if anything. The last couple months were a world's difference from how he treated himself now, three meals a day, a whole bar's worth of booze, soaking in the sun without any worry of the heat on his tail.

If he was lucky, there'd be some broad for him to check out. And if he was feeling luckier, he'd pour some of that signature Graves charm, and have himself some nice companionship for the evening back in his room.

The days went by like that, drinking, lounging, fucking if he was lucky.

And today, as he eyed a lone woman sitting on the opposite end of the pool, he felt like maybe it was yet another lucky day.

She definitely looked the part: slender but fit, skin unblemished and gleaming almost white in the sheen of sunlight. She always wore a large, wide-brimmed sunhat, and her wrists and ankles jangled with gold and silver.

This was her third day strolling in here on those platform sandals, looking like a veritable meal with that skimpy light blue two-piece bikini, frilly and high-class. He never got a look at her eyes; designer sunglasses ensured that almost half of her face was obscured. And she never said hello.

It was obvious that she was a woman of power. A corpo, perhaps? Maybe a lawyer?

Regardless, Malcolm only really cared about how her ass shifted from side to side in that perfect sashay when she would walk in or walk out, her hair, purple, flowing freely well past her shoulders.

She hadn't swum yet in the times she'd dropped by. Always just sprawled out on that chair right across from him, reading, popping bits of fruit past those glossed lips, or just napping.

Malcolm decided that it was about time he made his move. He was the lifeguard after all, and he was obligated to check on the well-being of the guests.

With his shades on and his barrel chest puffed out and tanned in the gleam of sunlight, Malcolm sauntered over. He'd never failed on a pick-up just yet, and he wasn't intending to do so today.

He slid himself into the chair next to her, giving her one last lookover before he feigned to relax, casual-like.

"You look like you're missing a drink, lady."

Malcolm kept looking ahead, cocky grin on his lips. He could hear her head shift, feel her give him a once-over. Her eyes left him, and they both stared into the shimmer of the pristine pool. Silence.

Then,

"Are you offering to buy me one?"

Malcolm chuckled. Her voice certainly sounded posh, but he could also hear the smile on her lips.

"Depends. You gonna let me?"

He looked over at her, offering her his smile.

She turned her head and looked back, her own lips curled upwards. Then, she raised her fingers to the sunglasses, and slipped them off, placing them on a nearby table.

Malcolm's heart dropped. She giggled, and her eyes met his in challenge.

"Well, I don't see why I would turn down such...hospitality from you, Mr. Graves."

Malcolm's smile had disappeared. For the first time in weeks, the fight or flight in his body raised its alarm. He made the move to get up.

"C-Caitlyn, you've been-"

Caitlyn raised her hand to silence him.

He shut up.

"Please, Graves, sit down. I'm here alone." she gave him a look he'd never seen before, but granted, the only looks he'd seen from her were from behind the barrel of a gun. She gave him a genuine smile, and added, "Fretting doesn't suit you."

He paused but settled back into his respective chair. He gave her a glare, still on edge, but the moment passed and he started playing along.

"Then what does?"

Caitlyn smiled.

"Mmm, probably the way you've been looking at me the past few days." she paused, very openly giving him an appraising look from head to toe. "And the way you offered me a drink a moment ago."

Malcolm sighed. This was it. His little paradise was gone.

His trusty double-barrel Destiny was stuffed in a closet in his designated room, and by now, there was probably a whole team of Piltover's finest positioned around him, ready to take him down at any sign of resistance.

Might as well keep playing along.

"Alright then." he said, getting up from his chair. His smile was grim this time, stony. It didn't matter how Caitlyn looked. She was still the one who was about to haul him into a cell for crimes he didn't commit. "Why don't you hosey on over to the bar, I'll fix you a drink."

Caitlyn raised a brow in approval.

"Now that's more like it, Mr. Graves."

The walk over was silent, and Malcolm contemplated the exits for the first time since he started working here. He never saw a need to do so before, but here he was, a cold sweat on his skin.

He poured them bourbon on the rocks, sliding the drink over to Caitlyn as she leaned over the bartop with her arms crossed. She chuckled at the choice.

"Shouldn't have expected anything more from you." she said, lifting the glass and swirling the ice with a twist of her wrist. "You're a simple man."

Malcolm walked over with his own glass, bottle in hand for the inevitable second round. The hair on his neck still stood straight, but the booze would help ease him, if just a little.

"It's on the house and you're still complainin'?"

He downed his glass before Caitlyn could even take a sip of hers. She considered him for a moment before bringing it to her lips, letting it sizzle down her throat. Her eyes narrowed to a near-squint.

"You don't trust me do you? Still think I'm here on business, sent to keep an eye on you as the police set up a perimeter?"

Malcolm didn't look at her and focused on refilling his glass with a few more drams of brown.

"There isn't a reason why I _should _trust you."

Caitlyn scoffed.

"Please, Mr. Graves. I've noticed your cover from the first day I came to this pool. If I really wanted to take you in, you wouldn't have had a chance to waltz up to me and offered me a drink, now would you?"

Malcolm's turn to scoff, a genuine grin on his mouth as he downed another dram. He looked up at her now, meeting her eyes with a challenge in his own.

"You overestimate yourself."

"Do I? If it weren't for me tracking your trail, you wouldn't be lounging around as a lifeguard, hiding as a wanted man, now would you?"

"You can thank Fate for that. I haven't done shit and you know it."

"That's a nice fantasy to believe in, truly, Mr. Graves, but it'd be even nicer if you had any evidence to back it up."

"I _would _have evidence if he didn't burn it."

"Ah, the boogeyman too now, eh? What's next? He's the one who made you pull the trigger on my own men?"

"I had no _fucking _choice. I-"

Malcolm caught himself. He was close to yelling now, his fists clenched white-knuckle. Caitlyn stared him down, until her shoulders slowly raised with a deep breath. He cast his gaze aside. She paused.

"Sorry, Graves." Caitlyn shook her head. "I shouldn't have pushed it."

She took a swig from her own glass, eyes downcast. Her nails tapped on her glass. For a moment, Malcolm felt a small twinge of remorse, but buried it with another gulp of bourbon.

"It's fine."

A momentary silence pervaded between the two of them.

With a conceding breath, Malcolm gave up.

"So what happens now? Do I just...follow you to your extraction point somewhere on this roof or…"

Caitlyn looked up at him, somewhat bemused before sighing with a roll of her eyes.

"I told you. I'm not here for you."

"Then why the keen interest in me these past few days?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm only here for the pool," she said. The mood was quickly returning to...whatever it was before, but at least both of them were willfully trying to move past the memories of the bloodshed and pursuit of the weeks prior. "And as I _tried _telling you earlier, I'm staying here on holiday. Peak vacation season, have the pool and most of the resort to myself."

Malcolm considered her, peered into those eyes. He still only saw the flash of her rifle.

He looked away.

"Just be sure to cuff me while I'm sleeping."

Caitlyn sighed. There was a moment where she gave him another look, but he didn't return it. She finished her glass, letting the ice clink against each other.

"Suit yourself then, Mr. Graves. I'm going for a swim."

He heard her platform sandals strut away from the bar, and he was alone.

He looked into his glass, the three ice cubes clinking around at the bottom, dry.

Then, he heard the splash of water.

He looked towards the pool, saw the figure of Caitlyn in the shimmer of blue.

She swam as elegantly as she fought. Her body twisted and undulated in its own current under the water, until she surfaced for air, her head whipping back in a graceful arc. Malcolm leaned against the bar, transfixed. He wondered if her training in the academy had taught her such finesse, or if it was just a hobby.

As she continued, Malcolm once again stopped seeing her as just a force bent on his destruction, but as a person. A woman.

His eyes enjoyed the sight of her, every movement of her smooth limbs in that crystal water. And his eyes drank in the sight even further when she finally surfaced at the shallow end, stepping out to dry herself.

Water coursed down through the purple of her hair, streaking down the smooth curve of her back, rivulets streaming down the paleness of her long, long legs. She started walking towards her designated chair, facing towards the bar now, every step making the fullness of her thighs deliciously shudder. She raised her arms to her hair to wrench out residue moisture, accentuating the suppleness of her chest.

She looked up at him the moment his eyes wandered up to her face, and she gave him a casual grin, as if knowing full well that he had been staring.

Malcolm held his ground, holding his stare as he raised his glass to his lips. She broke it first as she dried herself, and Malcolm's eyes followed the towel as it slid over every inch of her skin.

He didn't take his eyes off of her until she had slipped into her sandals again, hat perched atop her head, sunglasses behind her ears. And he kept his eyes on her as she walked back towards him and the bar.

She had that neutral grin on her face, and Malcolm wished her sunglasses weren't there, if only so he could try and read her eyes. Silently, she raised the glass she left on the counter. Malcolm filled it, eyes still trained on her.

He watched as she raised it slightly, as if to cheer. Then, watched as she downed it, never taking her lips off her glass, watching as a drop of water traced down the outline of her throat. Malcolm gulped.

Caitlyn drained the entire glass like water, letting out only a dainty sigh as she slammed the glass back onto the counter. She looked up at him, smiling with her eyes still obscured by black.

"Same time tomorrow, Mr. Graves?"

He looked at her, and realized the apprehension was gone. All he felt was the urge to watch her some more.

"Please," he said, his voice low, more akin to the one he used when he offered her a drink. "Call me Malcolm."

Caitlyn smiled, and with that, left, leaving Malcolm with his thoughts and the memory of the image of her strutting away in that bikini.

* * *

Sleep was fitful. Despite Caitlyn's promises, Malcolm expected that door to his room to burst open any time. Whenever he did close his eyes, the only thing he could see was the vision of her body.

He had Destiny unwrapped from its cloth sheath, perched next to his head.

Nobody came, but morning did. The sunlight filtering through Piltover's forest of skyscrapers brushed his eyelids awake, and Malcolm groaned.

By noon he was at the pool, perched on his usual station, bottle of bourbon to his side. He usually didn't bring any booze while he was on duty, lest management walk in on a surprise visit, but he needed it today, job security be damned.

He waited, eyes trained on the gate to the pool area, ears perked above the din of air traffic for any heliunits hovering nearby to book him.

Nothing.

Early afternoon came and went. Just like usual, nobody came to the pool.

It was by late afternoon, when the bottle was a little more than half empty, that the gate finally opened, and in strutted Caitlyn.

Malcolm heard her before he saw her, the subtle jangle of her jewelry, the swish of her blouse, the wooden clack of her platform sandals.

She wasn't wearing her sunglasses today, and she greeted him with a warm smile beneath the white brim of that sunhat.

As with every other day, she had a new getup. A white, breezy blouse draped her shoulders, streaking behind her as she walked. But beneath that blouse, she had a bikini top, a rich purple that matched the lustrousness of her hair. Its cloth criss-crossed her chest like a target for Malcolm's eyes, held together by decorative ring in its center.

Short jean shorts hugged her hips, riding up high above her thighs. They hugged so tight that it made those long legs seem even more endless, fraying white of its denim banding around her skin. Malcolm could see purple peeking right above her shorts' waist, presumably a matching bottom piece of her bikini. A white band around her left thigh completed the look, and Malcolm felt a compulsion to bite it. He wondered how much better she'd look without the shorts. Or nothing at all.

But such thoughts were chased away as Caitlyn sat herself down on one of the barstools, coyly looking around for a bartender, knowing full well who it was.

With a sigh, Malcolm shoved himself off his lifeguard perch, and made his way to the bar. He brought his bottle with him.

"Well, well…" Caitlyn said as Malcolm made his way behind the bar. "I was wondering how long I'd have to wait for service."

"You're gonna be waiting for a long time then if you're expecting me to fix ya a drink."

Caitlyn snorted.

"Cold as ever, Malcolm…"

Godsdamned, his name rolled off so well off those lips of hers, curled by that posh little accent that drove him mad.

Malcolm cleared his throat.

"...fine. A Noxian mule."

"Not a bourbon? And here I thought you were just a simple man."

He gave her a look as his hands went to work. Ice first, then the ginger beer, the vodka.

"Don't push your luck."

She was thoroughly amused. Silently, she watched him work, gaze as innocent as ever, as if she wasn't the Sheriff that usually drove cold chills down even the most weathered of criminals' spines. She set aside her hat and raked her fingers through the purple of her hair. Malcolm silently wondered what it smelled like.

Finally, he poured his concoction into two copper mugs, and slid one over to her. She raised hers in a toast, and begrudgingly, he obliged, their mugs clinking in a copper kiss.

"You waited for me long?"

Malcolm scoffed.

"I ain't waiting for nothin', sweetheart."

"The bags under your eyes tell me otherwise…" she said, that frustrating squint of hers returning. He felt naked, as if she could see through his very skin. "You didn't sleep well last night, did you?"

"And what's it to you?"

Caitlyn shrugged before she shook her head.

"I did tell you there was nobody coming. I'm here on holiday."

"You still expect me to believe that shit?"

"What? Sherriffs aren't allowed holiday?" Caitlyn took a sip from her drink, running her tongue over the gloss of her lips. "Vi is covering for me anyway. She probably has her nose to the ground, hot on your trail as we speak."

She winked, and added,

"But of course, between you and me, it'll take her at least twice as long to find you than it took me."

Malcolm tsked.

"So you did seek me out."

"For reasons other than to put you behind bars, yes. And besides, your cover is not as foolproof as you might think, cowboy." she gave him a once-over above the rim of her mug. "Sunglasses and swimming trunks aren't exactly an effective disguise."

Malcolm fumed, taking several draughts of his mule, suddenly wishing he'd just hightailed it out of here the moment his shift ended. What was he doing, anyhow? Coming back to this pool playing lifeguard and chatting up the woman in charge of the police force out for his blood. Was he nuts?

Then, Caitlyn gave him a look. A gentle, reassuring smile, one similar to the one she had given him yesterday.

"Seriously, Malcolm. Just relax. That's what I came here to do. Your case is...difficult, to say the least. I needed a holiday. I've been on M's trail for years, and I don't even know the last time I've had time for myself, what with hooligans like you running about giving me _more _work."

She offered him another grin, and Malcolm almost felt compelled to return it this time.

"I only pieced things together the moment I saw you sitting there as a faux member of the hotel staff, and decided to let sleeping dogs lie. After all, if I turned you in, that'd be the end of my holiday, now wouldn't it?"

She brought the copper to her lips again, letting Malcolm consider her as he did the same.

He considered her for a long, long moment. Eyes boring into her face, watching as she looked down into her cup with a wistful grin. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she really was just taking a break from it all, trying to sample that sweet life he himself had been indulging in for the past few weeks.

She brought her eyes up to his again.

"I would appreciate more of that mule, if you'd be so kind."

She offered her copper mug, empty. He looked at it, looked up at her again. A pause.

Then, with a subtle shake of his head, Malcolm conceded, the bristle of hair on the back of his neck gone.

Caitlyn was offering him good company, whether she was lying to him or not. And at this point, he might as well accept it.

He took the cup from her hand, and set about to refill it, taking one last draught from his own. She probably noticed his shift, reading the tells on his mouth, the lack of apprehension in his posture.

When he handed back her mug, full to the brim, he finally returned a smile.

"Added a little somethin' extra." he said, taking the initiative to clink his mug against hers. "Figured you could handle it."

Caitlyn purred, running a finger along the rim of her mug as she leant forward, settling herself further into her seat.

"Just the way I like it."

The drinks and conversation soon flowed in tandem. Throwing caution to the wind, Malcolm's smiles became more frequent, his jabs less pointed and more playful. He liked the way she laughed.

Caitlyn's sharp wit gave Malcolm a run for his money, a challenge he hadn't faced in a woman for longer than he could remember. There was something electric about her, the way she prodded in just the right ways, just the right spots. She was more dangerous as she was now than she was with her rifle, and Malcolm was crazy about it.

They'd abandoned the bar after the fourth mule, a few drams of rye, and, at Caitlyn's insistence, a shot of vodka. Malcolm was impressed; Caitlyn could keep pace with him, something even Fate had a hard time doing.

Their lips were looser now as they sipped gin, reclined on those lazy poolside chairs, shooting the breeze and sharing chuckles as they watched the time go by in the blue translucence of pool water.

There was a lax warmth in the air, the tension of their occupational conflicts dust. But as they kept sitting next to each other, sipping that gin with the whole pool to themselves, another kind of tension reared its sultry head.

Malcolm noticed her eyes during a lull in the conversation. She was looking at him in a quiet sort of consideration, eyes a little darker than usual, blinks a little slower. And they were looking at him in places other than his face.

She was far from drunk, but not quite sober. There was barely any sign of inhibition, or even subtlety, with how her hooded eyes looked into his, scoured over the tanned firmness of his chest.

Ever the gentleman, Malcolm casually returned the favor, letting his eyes meander as he talked, openly drinking in the sight of her legs as they slowly shifted as she sat. She still had her blouse and those denim short shorts on, and with each passing moment, after each consecutive sip of gin, his desire to see her without any of it only mounted.

Caitlyn started drawing slow circles on her upper thigh, knowingly drawing Malcolm's attention as she drawled about some meaningless case neither of them really cared about. She stopped talking, but the finger kept drawing curlicues. Malcolm's glass was empty by this point, but he still gulped.

They shared one last look with each other. Their eyes mirrored one another, and it was obvious that there was something they both wanted, something unspoken.

Caitlyn shifted the conversation.

"I still can't believe you didn't recognize me," she said with a giggle. "I wasn't exactly undercover."

Malcolm shrugged, a wry smile on his lips.

"Hey, I mean, I'm just not used to seeing you without..." he wanted to make sure that the looks she gave him weren't just coincidence, slips from all the alcohol she'd sipped. So his eyes ran down her body, pointedly scanning every inch, from the supple gloss of her lips to the tautness of her belly, to the toes she softly wiggled about. His journey down was as leisurely and conspicuous as the journey back up her curves, before they finally landed back on her face. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and that was all the confirmation he needed. "...without your hat."

A pause. Malcolm could see her chest rise and fall as her breaths grew just a tad bit deeper. She nodded, looking at him with bedroom eyes that almost made his hairs stand on end.

Then, she turned away from him, swinging her legs over the side of her chair.

Not a word, and she stood, giving him one look over her shoulder as her arms fell to her sides, and with a shrug, the blouse fell to the ground.

Malcolm's turn to bite his lip as the naked skin of Caitlyn's back bared itself in a flourish. Her skin was a flawless canvas, the purple of her hair lustrous paint. His eyes lingered around the small of her back, that subtle dip right above the perky curve of her ass. His mouth watered.

Then, he heard the unclasping of a button, the teeth of a zipper. Caitlyn slipped her thumbs under the waistband of those tight short shorts, and with a tug, slid them off. She bent over, giving Malcolm a full view of her rear, stretched out nice and tight in a purple bikini bottom as the short shorts slid down the smooth endlessness of her legs.

The time it took for those shorts to hit the ground seemed like an eternity, an eternity Malcolm savored as his eyes drank their fill.

Without even thinking, Malcolm was on his feet. Caitlyn looked at him one last time as she stepped out of her shorts, leaving her in a skimpy but very high class two-piece bikini, its purple fabric a perfect contrast to the pale silkiness of her skin.

She started walking, bringing a hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, her steps slow. Malcolm's feet followed, tugged along by an invisible thread.

"Care for a swim, Malcolm?"

Her voice was low, and he could see her eyes flickering with the unspoken agreement that compelled him to follow her to the edge of the pool.

"I don't swim."

He closed in on her now as she stopped, waiting. Malcolm wondered how long they could hold up this little charade. It was getting more difficult to walk the longer he looked at her.

She gave a sultry little giggle that made his skin bristle. Then, she finally dipped her toes into the pool, slowly. They were in the shallow end, steps receding into the water with steel rails following suit. Caitlyn's fingers ran along one of those rails as she took another step into the water, her progress undisturbing the water's surface.

"That's right, how could I forget," Caitlyn said, turning around slowly and looking up at him as the water came up to her thigh. She made slow, slow steps back, as if waiting for him to follow lest she swim away from his grasp. "You only like to watch."

She wanted him to make the first move.

Something snapped in him as he trudged forward. In sharp contrast to Caitlyn's elegant wade, water billowed around him, splashing about with every one of his hungry strides. Caitlyn had stopped moving, standing there in the shallow water, waiting.

The closer he got, the more he could see that little mouth of hers, falling open, breathing as hard as he was in anticipation.

When he finally closed the distance, he didn't dare touch her. He let a moment pass for the water around them to settle. But in that moment, their heavy breaths crackled like pure electricity, their chests rising and falling only an inch away from each other, skin crackling, eyes glued.

Even with the towering jungle of skyscrapers, the pink noise of air traffic, the danger of a lone hotel guest or staff member walking into the pool area, Malcolm and Caitlyn only saw each other; they were alone.

"What game are you playing at, Sherriff?" Malcolm said, his voice almost a growl.

Caitlyn was taller than most women, and her eyes were not far below his. Being this close, he could smell her. He was hard.

"Simply the one you started yesterday, cowboy…" she said, her own voice almost a whisper. They couldn't hear anything other than their breaths, fast and growing almost desperate. Malcolm hadn't lay a hand on her yet, but he was already feeling lightheaded as her hot breaths slipped past his lips.

"And you want to finish it?"

"Be a gentleman, Malcolm…" Caitlyn said, finally bringing her hands up to his chest. Her fingers played with the curls sprouting on his skin, and Malcolm's nostrils flared. Her eyes bored into his, and Malcolm knew it'd be impossible to escape them. "...and finish it yourself."

Malcolm's mouth was on hers in the span of a breath, swirling hungrily, hot and heavy before Caitlyn could even breathe. She melted into him, meeting his lips in an equal fervor, letting her body become lax against his burliness. Their breaths escaped in hot hisses through their nostrils, moving in tandem with groans, the wet smacks of their lips.

Malcolm's hands didn't hesitate in grabbing handfuls of her skin, smoothing down and up her back, grabbing palmfuls of her ass, sliding down her arms. Caitlyn returned the favor with equal enthusiasm, her palms gliding over the sinews of his muscle in unabashed gropes.

They stood entangled like that without separating until the sharp huffs through nostrils wasn't enough for air, and their lips unlatched, breaths hot. Their eyes both swirled with the same emotion, that unspoken force that drove their hands into each other's skin.

Only a few moments, and their mouths resumed their slipshod union. Malcolm sucked the taste of gin from Caitlyn's tongue, enjoying every moan muffled into his lips. He could feel himself slipping as she started to gyrate against him, his erection pressed firmly into her belly.

A few steps directed both of them to the edge of the pool, where Malcolm pinned her with his weight, making sure she couldn't escape his grasp even if she tried. In response, Caitlyn brought her legs around his waist-just above water level-just to remind him that she wouldn't dare.

Malcolm reciprocated her eagerness with his own, his hips starting out that familiar cycle, pushing the bulge in his swimming trunks in torturous grinds against Caitlyn's core. The action eased moans between their cheeks, eeking out over the slick tangle of their tongues. Even in her captive position, Caitlyn tried her best to grind back, causing the fullness of her breasts to further pillow tight against Malcolm's skin.

Once again their mouths parted, Caitlyn releasing a throaty mewl as Malcolm's grinds ontinued churning the heat in her belly. Her hands dug into the firmness of his broad shoulders, her head lulled back against the pool area pavement as the intensity only mounted as Malcolm started growling and sucking at her skin.

She let out a sharp and breathless gasp as she felt fingers roughly shoving under the fabric of her bikini bottoms.

"Is this what you do for fun?" Malcolm said, panting into her neck, biting at the skin as his fingers started rubbing against the slick apex between her thighs. "Tempting lifeguards, fucking them in pools?"

"Far from it, _mmm_." she said, her hands raking through the skin on his back like white-hot nails. "I wouldn't shag just _anyone_, cowboy. It's not like this is the first time we've met…"

The insinuation didn't make it past him. She had sought him out, looked for him on purpose.

"So you got hot looking at me while you were shooting at me? That's a new level of depraved, you slut."

She gave a delighted squeal as Malcolm punctuated with a hungry bite right above her throat.

"Maybe you're right. I do love how it..._feels_…"

Malcolm brought his face back up to hers again, mouth against her cheek.

"How _what _feels?" he growled.

She looked back at him, her breaths wetly wisping against his cheeks, eyes in a hot daze.

"Being under the gun of a man I had in my sights."

Malcolm knew this woman would be the end of him; just from that one look, he knew he was into this far deeper than he should be.

He shoved his tongue past her inviting lips the same moment he shoved his fingers into her cunt, curling each digit, spreading them out against the heat of her inner heat. Each little move echoed in the form of a groan into his throat, a swipe from her tongue against his, and Malcolm only started going faster, deeper.

Caitlyn sputtered against his mouth, almost squealing as he started fingerblasting her in earnest, sticky spatters of her inner heat making a mess of his hand, her purple bikini bottom. Malcolm's tongue slid out of her lips in a wet slurp, and he pulled back to watch her. Her fingers dug deep into his neck as she curled back further into the wall of the pool's edge, her moans growing louder, more desperate as Malcolm kept plunging his fingers into her.

He brought his other hand up to her bikini top, roughly pulling at the knotted strings at its center until the purple fabric fell to the side of her heaving chest. Her nipples were pink, pebbly, and they fit perfectly between his lips, between the gaps of his groping hand. Caitlyn squealed as Malcolm sucked and bit, swirled and groped, her slender frame shuddering against his pinning weight.

Malcolm's pace was relentless, incessant, pushing Caitlyn onto her tiptoes under the water, bringing her breath to hitched gasps. Then, in a series of choking yelps, she came, her body clamming up and turning to jelly all at once.

Malcolm brought his fingers out of her, pulling back his mouth from her chest. He watched as she rode it out, her entire body under the brunt of orgasm, watched as the face of the law that pursued him, pushed him against a wall, turned into a helpless and submissive puddle of desire right before his eyes.

He was harder than ever, and he wasn't going to wait much longer to get what he wanted.

When the tides ebbed, Caitlyn was breathless. Not a moment after she opened her eyes again, she reached out for Malcolm's face, bringing his lips down to hers. Between their kisses, she was begging.

"Just take me, already, Malcolm. Please…"

The exit from the pool was swift, their wet feet in a hurried patter against pavement. They found themselves back at those reclined chairs. Wordlessly Caitlyn pushed Malcolm down onto the one of them after untying the knot of his swimming trunks. Their eyes locked as their fingers went to work on their respective swimwear; Malcolm's trunks fell into a ruffled puddle at his feet, Caitlyn's bikini bottoms slipping off the lithe skin of her legs to join them.

They didn't bother with anything else, leaving on the assorted jewelry on her wrists, her ankles, the strap on her thigh, leaving on the dangling purple of her bikini top fastened like a choker around her neck, leaving on the lifeguard whistle around Malcolm's.

Not a second longer and Caitlyn strode over to him, dripping, her hands on his shoulders as she dug a knee into the poolside chair, swinging another leg on his other side as she straddled him. Their eyes never left each other's. Malcolm's hands found a firm hold on her hips as she settled into the position, his thumbs drawing soft circled on her hip bones.

Caitlyn tilted her head and ran her fingers through her hair, bringing all of the strands of her purple to one side. Her breath grew more bated once the throbbing firmness of Malcolm's meat kissed her lower lips. Then, slowly, her hips began to move, sliding her slick core against Malcolm's veiny arousal with intent. Their breathy exhales grew more heady as this went on, one of Malcolm's hands starting to rub encouraging swirls against the small of her back.

In due time Caitlyn's hips were moved at a more erratic pace, her arousal coating the underside of Malcolm's cock in a sticky sheen. She brought one of her hands to the base of his prick, holding it steady as she raised herself, sliding the cockhead against her heat in a firm kiss.

Then, she let gravity and the large hands on her skin guide her down, sinking onto Malcolm's lap, swallowing his shaft whole.

A moan rattled throughout her as she shuddered. Malcolm let out a low groan. His cock filled her up with just the right kind of pressure, wrapped tight around the heat that had blossomed in her belly. By the time she had him hilted, the skin of her thigh flush against his, they were both breathing heavy, their eyes in a daze as the pressure got the best of them both.

In no time at all, Caitlyn's hips were moving, cycling and intent on letting Malcolm stuff her and stretch her out to his liking. Malcolm groaned in tandem. The damned sheriff was as tight as she looked, and he felt his loins pulse with every downwards swing of her wide hips.

"Gods, it's _nnnmng… it's been too long…_" Caitlyn said in a hiss, burying her face into the crook of Malcolm's neck.

In and in again, Caitlyn sucked him in, her tits brisking against his skin. The rhythm of her hips grew faster the more her clit slid against him, driven by the innate need for more, for the release his fingers had given him when they dug into her minutes earlier in the pool. Her jewelry started to ring along in beat with the sex, cool clinking as they wildly flung about on her wrists, around her ankles, another layer to the din of their sex.

It didn't take long until Caitlyn was honest-to-gods fucking him, her entire body a hungry coil for Malcolm's engorged shaft. Her skin clapped in loud smacks against his, her breaths coming out in short-burst staccato. Malcolm's toes curled with the tightness, the heat that kept tugging and sucking him to the very base of his cock. It was more than enough effort to resist turning her onto her back and having his way with her, but he wanted her to have her fun. Or at least, for as long as he could hold back.

His hands couldn't resist roaming as Caitlyn kept going, slamming down onto his lap. He could feel the beads of sweat beginning to condensate on her back, feel it roll down the front of her chest. He took her in closer, tighter, pressing her against him in a bear hug. He wanted to feel her neck sliding against his, her tits flush against his chest. Caitlyn responded in kind, her arms drawing him in as tight as she could as she buried her face against his skin, mewling.

Malcolm's own hips couldn't help but to start jutting upwards, small little trusts, meeting Caitlyn's own. He hadn't had pussy this good in years, and the mounting pressure in the base of his balls was making him grow more desperate He could sense that she liked the effort, like the way the prick she eagerly rode was eagerly accepting everything she had.

Legs of the folding lawn chair scraped against the pool pavement, but it was unheard as the sex merely got more intense. Malcolm's breaths keep out in short, hungry huffs as his lips clamped onto her skin, biting. His growls rumbled into her as his hands slid down the perfect inward curve of her spine, palms spreading and latching firm onto the perky hold of her tight ass. He started using his arms, giving boosted strength the the swing of her hips, puncuating each clap of her skin against his lap.

Caitlyn came, her entire frame shuddering into a fleshy halt. Malcolm could feel her coil tighter around him, a constrictive heat that kneaded him until his breath caught. He could feel the wail rising up in her throat, feel her body beginning to lock tight around him as her climax continued to overwhelm every fiber of her being.

But Malcolm wasn't about to let her stop moving; his engorged prick was feeling too good to just let the frenetic pace take a brief respite.

With a growl, he took his hands and pushed Caitlyn's shoulders awa, peeling her body off of him, forcing her back. _All _the way back.

Bewildered, Caitlyn's hands had no choice but to support her weight, finding a hold on Malcolm's knees as she looked at him, breathless.

"M-Malcolm what are you-"

He didn't give her a chance before he gave his answer with his hips.

With a powerful thrust upwardds, and his hands smoothed down to the junction of her hips and her thighs, it was Malcolm's turn to fuck.

He used his burly arms to grip her tight, lift and drop her onto his lap with ease, hissin as he felt his prick throb in approva. Caitly could only wail, unabashed squeals choking out of her as she got drilled through her climax, forcibly riding Malcolm's shaft for all she was worth.

Malcolm panted hard through his teeth, fully enjoying the view in front of him. With Caitlyn leaning back, he got a clear view of every inch of her,her smooth paleness undulating and eating up every inch of his raging lust, her breasts swaying hard with every pump of Malcolm's arms, that useless purple bikini top flailing about with the glint of her jewelry.

It wasn't long until her next orgasm crashed through her, sapping the strength from her arms, threatening to leave her weightless and without support. And it wasn't long before Malcolm twisted both of their bodies around on that chair, pushing Caitlyn onto her back as if she were getting a suntan.

With his grip clamped tightly enough her slender waist to pruise, Malcolm got onto his feed, straddling the chair as he started to finally let his hips loose. With more freedom in his movements, Malcolm started plowing Caitlyn into the chair, sweat streaking down his tanned skin as he watched her pale body engulf his fat cock over and over.

Caitlyn was forced to reach through the slats of the lawn chair above her, using it as a grip as she got fucked. Her back was completely off the chair at this point as Malcolm had his way with her, plunging his entire length in and out, base to tip, faster and faster, harder and harder, his crotch crashed into her in hard, ruthless smacks.

She choked out his name as instinctively brought her legs together behind his back, pulling him in as deep as he could go. She was too overwhelmed by the rutting to think of anything other than Malcolm's dick, his sheer strength as he turned her inside out.

She'd cum twice more by the time Malcolm's breathless groans signified that he was close. He started throwing _all _his weight into the next successive hammering of his hips, plowing Caitlyn's tight, skinny frame for all it was worthuntil with one final slam of his hips forward, he hilted himself, and felt the pressure of his loins finally burst forth in an explosive heat that made his mouth dry.

Numbing streaks of his cum shot out in long, hot streaks, his cockhead pulsing as each shot made Malcolm groan out Caitlyn's name. He could only toss his head back as the release completely deadened all of his nerves, all of his senses, shot after shot of hot spunk barrelling into that snug pocket of Caitlyn's cunt, coating every inch that he had just plowed.

He continued to pump his load into Caitlyn's slender body until finally, his hands went slack, the exhaustion from such a hard rutting hitting him like a freight train. He dropped her onto the chair, earning a surprised mewl as he pulled out his cock with a wet slurp, wads of his cum following suit.

Malcolm panted, staggering over to the adjacent chair where he plopped himself down to catch his breath.

Then, in the middle of his post-coital glow, he laughed. His hands clasped behind his head, he felt the sweat glistening and drying on his bare skin, the small twitches of the tool between his legs, and he realized the sun had never felt as good as it did now.

He lay there like that for a good few minutes before he felt soft hands smoothing up the solid curve of his chest, then the curl of hot breaths against his beard. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was.

They shared languid kisses, then a few languid laughs, before the contact of their naked bodies in that summer Piltoverian sun drove them to start fucking again.

It was after that second round that Malcolm was grateful there was a pool.

The rest of the afternoon melted away in a haze as they continued losing themselves in each other's bodies, indulging in this temporary oasis.

Malcolm was the one to suggest a break at the bar, but even that didn't last long; even after her body had squeezed out four loads, they couldn't get enough of each other, sparked by a single swipe of Caitlyn's tongue over the rim of glass.

He had bent her over behind the counter, both of them completely naked at this point, Caitlyn's hair like abstract lines of paint, sticking to the sweat of her back. He loved watching that ass of hers back up into him, those perky cheeks kissing his hips as he smoothed his hands over them, letting a thumb dig into the skin.

As it was with every other time, the sex was fast, relentless, almost wordless. And it continued in that insatiable cycle until dusk, when Malcolm finally took her to her room, leaving the pool area a mess.

He'd probably get fired in the morning, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was this woman he continued to ravish in his sheets, with that cocky little smile, the violet of her eyes, the delicate skill of her fingers.

He didn't know when they stopped. But wat Malcolm did know when he woke up was that he damn sore. And hungover.

The night rushed back to him in a stream of sensation and images, the taste of alcohol on Caitlyn's slick lips, the taste of sweat on the dip of her spine. His fingers could still feel the silky skin of her thighs, his sore prick the incomparable heat of her cunt.

Malcolm turned to his side, the migraine already starting to settle in. The smell of her hair was still on the pillow.

He forced himself to sit up, a groan rumbling from his throat. His brain sloshed around in his skull.

He didn't hear the sound of running water. Caitlyn had left, just like he expected her to.

In the corner of his eye, he saw something on his nightstand, placed right next to the barrel of Destiny. A note, written on a wrinkly napkin from the bar, letters scrawled over the brown ring of residue bourbon. How cliche.

Malcolm took it, blinking a few times to get rid of the groggy haze in his eyes. He read it.

"_Thank you for the holiday. _

_Going to need another one after the odeal you put me through, but you always did like to fuck the law, didn't you?_

_Vi's close, so consider this a head start._"

It wasn't signed.

Malcolm found himself smiling. More of last night played back in his head, and the smile stayed. This temporary little bubble of his had popped. He'd probably have the hotel manager knocking on his door within the hour, and if he stayed around long enough, the heat would find him literally with his pants down.

Then, through the haze of the hangover and the weight of reality beginning to settle in, Caitlyn's smile flashed through his mind.

On the lam again, Malcolm wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
